All of Time and Space
by dashboardconfessions
Summary: Basically just some random Amy/Rory and Rose/Doctor oneshots centered around a trigger word. My first Doctor Who thing, so please give it a try? Chapter 8: Tears
1. Insomnia

**For some reason, I always forget to do author's notes after I upload. Sorry about that. **

**Well, there's not much to say. Basically, I'm doing Doctor/Rose and Amy/Rory oneshots, not at all related to each other, each centered around one word. This is the first time I've really done any Doctor Who stuff, so please be nice. And if you have any suggestions or if you want to send me a trigger word, please do. Constructive criticism and opinions are welcome, just as long as they're not flaming. **

**I do not own Doctor Who, although if I did, the Ponds and Rose and Ten would still be there. **

1. Insomnia.

The room was silent, except for the sound of the shallow breathing below him. She was asleep, but he was right above her tossing and turning, unable to get comfortable. In a little while, they would be up and getting ready for another busy day, another adventure.

He flipped onto his back and stared up at the ceiling, waiting for sleep to take over, but for some reason, he was starting to feel more awake. He had never had serious insomnia, not until he took up residence in this room. Not that he didn't like being here, because he did. He just didn't like being _here_.

He hated to wake her up. It sounded like she was sleeping so peacefully. But he just really needed to talk to someone, and he didn't want to go find The Doctor. Besides, he would rather talk to her anyway.

Flipping over on his side again, he peered over the side of the bed so that he could see her, just faintly, in the darkness. She was sleeping on her side, with her back to him. She seemed so far away. And so serene.

After a second's hesitation, he whispered her name. "Amy."

She stirred, but otherwise there was no indication she heard him. He sighed, waited a few seconds, and then tried again, raising his voice slightly. "Amy."

Nothing. Maybe he should leave her alone. His insomnia was his problem, not hers. He lay back down, staring at the ceiling, wrapping his blankets even tighter around him. The silence was starting to drill into his brain again, and he couldn't handle it.

"Amy! Are you awake?"

He heard a loud groan, followed by the creak of the bed springs, and then her voice, harsh and yet sweet at the same time. "I heard you the first time, Rory. I _chose _to ignore you."

"Oh." Well, now that she was awake... "Sorry, I can't sleep."

"Sure, you can. It's easy. Just close your eyes and be quiet."

She yawned. He sighed. "It's these beds. They're _so _uncomfortable," he said, moving about just enough to cause the bed to creak and prove his point.

"Rory, if you break that bed-"

He stopped moving, and the room fell silent again. Why couldn't he sleep? They had a big day tomorrow. The Doctor was taking them to a beach on some planet that Rory wouldn't even try to pronounce. He wanted to be well-rested. But it was impossible.

"It's really cold in here," he said as a chill ran through his body. He pulled his blankets tighter, but that was not the source of warmth he was looking for. It was not what would make him feel better.

"So go and get some blankets out of the closet. There are plenty in there."

Rory flipped over on his side and stared at the wall. Why did The Doctor give them bunk beds? Seriously? Bunk beds?

"Rory, if you didn't have anything important to say, why did you wake me up?" she asked.

He wasn't sure of an answer. His own silly reasons, he supposed. The fact that he wanted to hear something, not lie there in silence, and the only thing he wanted to hear was her voice.

"I don't know," he settled on saying. "Maybe I should take a walk around. That might make me tired."

"Okay," she said dismissively. He could hear her moving around below him, about to go back to sleep. "Don't stay up all night. We're finally going to a beach, and hopefully this one won't be threatened by aliens or something."

He didn't plan on going for a walk. The whole place would be dark, and he wasn't sure if The Doctor was up and about. He didn't even know what The Doctor did when he and Amy were in bed. He certainly didn't want to accidentally run into him and intrude on his alone time.

So he continued staring at the ceiling, trying to think about something pleasant and dreamy to put him to sleep. However, he was pulled from his thoughts when she spoke again.

"Damn it, Rory, now I can't sleep."

"Sorry," he said softly, genuinely. "I just thought maybe if we talked for a little while, I would get sleepy and-"

"Are you still cold?"

"...yes."

"Good. Me too."

He sighed. Maybe that was his signal to go and get blankets for her. At least that would make her comfortable. He didn't think the cold was what was bothering him. He didn't even know what was preventing him from sleep. But he would go to the closet and get some blankets for Amy, and then he would perhaps try to find a book to read or something.

"Are you coming down here?" she asked.

"Yes," he answered as he started to climb out of his bed. "I'll get the blankets-"

"Bring yours down here."

"But then I wouldn't-"

"Oh, Rory, don't be so stupid!" He could hear the amusement in her voice. "I'll just come up there."

"Amy, there's no room-"

He saw a small yellow light flicker on below him, and he groaned. She was seriously coming up here. These were like children's bunk beds. He could barely fit in this one himself. But he could hear her climbing up the ladder, and in seconds there was a flash of red hair and she was right next to him.

"Scoot over," she said, nudging him.

He sat up, looking directly into her eyes twinkling in the yellow light of the small flashlight she was holding. Her hair was all messed up, and she had a smirk playing on her lips. He didn't even have time to move before she was in his bed, dragging a blanket behind her and trying to position the flashlight so she could see.

No room. Absolutely no room. He already knew this would happen, but she was starting to figure it out. Her cold, bare feet somehow ended up pressing his arm down hard into the bed, and she elbowed him in the throat trying to get herself situated.

"Sorry!" she exclaimed, but still, she continued trying to cram herself into this tiny bed.

"It's fine," he said, rubbing his neck. "Amy, I don't think this is a very good idea-"

"Hush." She had dropped the flashlight and was now on top of him, her knee pressing into his chest. But he didn't really mind. He gazed up at her, waiting for one of her sarcastic remarks, but she just looked at him. And then she smiled and kissed him lightly on the lips. "Scoot over."

It took him a second to get his mind working again. That's what she did to him. Even after being together for so many years, she still had the same effect on him. He moved, and she was able to flip over and lie next to him, with zero room for movement. She reached over to turn the flashlight off, and then she rested her head on his shoulder.

"We're going to have to talk to The Doctor about these beds," she said. "Are you comfortable?"

He tried to move his arm, but it was pinned down, and Amy didn't seem to know he was trying to move. But that was okay, because he could stay like this. "I'm fine," he replied.

"Alright. Good night."

Her legs were all tangled up with his, and her hands and feet were freezing, and he couldn't even move an inch to the left. And it was perfectly fine. He adjusted. They could stay like this. Because he realized that that was what he needed. He needed her. She was what put him at peace.

"Good night," he whispered, placing a soft kiss on her forehead.

She was already asleep, and it didn't take him very long to fall asleep. This was much better.


	2. Rain

**Well, no reviews. That's okay. I'm not sure how I feel about these oneshots. I just need some feedback, if it's good, ways I can improve, etc. That would be great. **

**This is Doctor/Rose. The Doctor in this one is Eleven, but there will definitely be some Nine and Ten in here too. Hope you guys enjoy! Please review? **

2. Rain

It was raining. The Doctor hated the rain. It was like trying to find something interesting happening on a Sunday afternoon or a Thursday. People hardly ever went out when it was raining. But still, he was standing in the street beside the TARDIS, his hands shoved in his pockets as he contemplated what he was going to do.

The year was 2005. It was no accident that he had come here. This was when he had first met her. And though that was years ago and he was different now, he still wanted to see her, even if she didn't recognize him. He missed her. He wasn't entirely sure if he was in love with her, if he was ever in love with her, but he knew that he missed her. Every time she happened to cross his mind, he felt a strange pain in his chest, one that he did not recognize. And he had to fix that.

Grabbing an umbrella from the TARDIS and straightening his bow tie, he headed down the sidewalk as the rain began to fall harder. She had worked at a shop, the one he had first encountered her at. So that's where he would go, just to check. If she wasn't there, he would check the flat she had lived at with her insane mother. He still remembered every detail of that flat. He would not ever forget.

On his way, he passed a florist shop, which had a display of roses in the window. Red roses. White roses. Yellow roses. He blinked and looked away. Almost there. Just a couple more blocks...

What would he say to her? Would he even see her? Why was he even worrying about this? What was he even doing here?

Here it was. He looked up at the store sign, big and bold and bright compared to the dark and dull sky above. He closed his umbrella and pushed open the door.

There was hardly anyone here. He looked around at the few middle-aged women and children and a little old man milling about, looking at clothes and shoes. He wondered what made them decide to come out today, of all days, to shop.

"Can I help you with something?"

He froze, afraid to turn around. Why was he afraid? It was just Rose Tyler. _His _Rose Tyler. But he was not _her _Doctor.

He turned to face her. She looked so young, so innocent. She hardly had any makeup on, and her hair was tied up in a messy bun. On the right side of her chest, she wore a nametag: Rose T.

"No, just looking," he said, and immediately he wanted to mentally kick himself. Why did he say that? He didn't get nervous. Not usually.

She cocked her head to the side and crossed her arms over her chest. Her eyes flitted to the side, and his followed. A woman was standing close by, watching them closely.

"Can you at least pretend that I'm helping you?" Rose murmured, so low he could barely hear her. "I'm being evaluated."

He stared at her for a moment, and then he smiled. She wanted to smile back, he could tell from her eyes, but she didn't. She was trying to look serious, like she was doing her job.

"Why, yes, of course," he said. "I'm looking for a new..." He looked down, touching his bow tie. "Bow tie. A new bow tie. Bow ties are cool."

She laughed, rather loudly, and she had to stop herself. He tried to suppress his smile, but he was just so happy to see her, to hear her laugh that same laugh. The one that he had always caused. He had loved to make her laugh.

"No, they're not," she said, shaking her head. "But I'll show you some if you want." She took his arm gently and showed him to the men's section, just a short wak away, and gestured to the bow ties laid out on the table. "There you go, sir."

"No need to call me sir," he said, picking up a green bow tie.

Rose smiled again. He knew they had connected instantly. It was like he was meant to find her. No matter what he looked like, no matter how much he had changed, they would always be able to connect.

"What do I need to call you then?" she asked.

He frowned, running his fingers over the bow tie, and set it down. She had not met him yet. He couldn't interfere with that. "John Smith."

She raised an eyebrow, like she didn't believe him. It seemed like her eyes were staring straight into his mind, pulling the truth out of him. She had always been able to do that.

But after a few long seconds, she nodded, accepting his answer. "Well, Mr. John Smith, I hope I helped you today. Just let me know if you need anything else."

"Thank you..." He made a point to look at her nametag, though he didn't need it. "Rose." He didn't want this to be over. If she walked away, he would not see her again. Well, he would, but...time was a rather complicated thing.

She started to walk away, looking rather sad. The light was no longer in her eyes. It was like it was already hurting her to leave him. It was hurting him too.

"You were brilliant!" he called after her.

He didn't mean the help she had offered him today. He meant for everything else. Everything that she had ever done, every time she was able to save him, from aliens and humans, as well as himself. She was absolutely brilliant.

"Thank you, Mr. Smith," she replied, and then she turned her back on him and began to organize some clothes on a display.

That was it. He had no money, so he couldn't purchase anything. He could ask her for help again, but when he spun around to ask, she was already caught up with another customer. She was gone. But that was okay. She would meet him soon, and they would travel together. And then she would be lost again.

If the sun would have been shining, he probably would have screamed at it. The sun reflected happiness, and it made the world continue on like nothing wrong was going on anywhere.

Good thing it was raining today.


	3. Dream

**A/N: I'm terribly sorry if these aren't good. I'm just writing words that are popping into my mind. If you guys have any words for later chapters, just let me know and tell me which couple you want. **

3. Dream.

Amy Pond felt alone. She wasn't entirely sure why. After all, she was with The Doctor, doing exactly what she had wanted to do her whole life. But after they had left the Silurians, she just felt strange, like something was missing. And she couldn't figure out what.

The Doctor had let her move to a different room, one with a king size bed. At first, she was incredibly excited, but when she lay down to go to bed that night, the empty feeling came back, and she didn't know why. It was like a giant hole was forming in her chest as she stared at the other side of the bed. She let her fingers trace the red sheets as she tried to figure out what was bothering her. But the more she thought about it, the more it hurt, and she had to stop. The emptiness wasn't why she was hurting; it was the fact that she didn't know what was causing it.

The Doctor started taking her on trips to beautiful places that he had never offered to take her to before. They spent far longer at these places than he had ever stayed anywhere. It didn't worry her at first, but once they visited the magnificent gardens of a distant planet called Castelon, she started to get suspicious. Why was he doing this? It was like he felt sorry for her. But why?

"Why are you being so nice to me?" she asked him one day, when he told her that he was taking her shopping.

The Doctor looked up at her, his face far too grave, far too concerned. It unnerved her. "What are you talking about? I'm always nice to you."

He didn't say anything else to her about it. He just continued suggesting wonderful places, where they didn't run into any danger at all, and they spent as long as she wanted there. It was nice the first few trips, but she started to grow tired of it. Because no matter where they went, no matter how long they spent there, no matter how long she was kept occupied, at the end of the day, there was still something missing.

And after a while, the dreams started coming.

They started out simple, just her past self walking through that field down the street from her house, alone. That's what she had always done when she was stressed or just wanted to get away from everything. But even in dreams, it felt strange, because there was something that was supposed to be there. It was like something had been completely pulled out of her memory. And that field went on for days and days, it seemed. It never ended. She was going to be completely alone for as long as that field was wide.

And then, days after the dreams started occurring, something else happened. There was a voice, a male voice, speaking to her, one that she had heard somewhere before, but she didn't know where. But he spoke to her like he knew her rather well. And he spoke to her like he missed her. And he spoke to her like he loved her.

She woke with a start, not wanting to experience the dream anymore. That field that she had found so peaceful in the past now felt like a total nightmare, because there was something there that she needed to find, and she couldn't find it. It was like there was someone trying to talk to her, and she couldn't talk back. And the emptiness in her only grew.

Her face was wet. She hadn't realized it, but she was crying. How long had she been crying? What was she even crying about? She wiped the tears away, but they just kept coming, and she let out a weak sob. She didn't understand this at all. How could you feel so sad and not know what you were sad about?

For a while, she lay in her bed curled into a tight ball, letting herself cry. And then she realized that she was not going to be getting back to sleep tonight, not like this, and she needed someone. So she wandered out of her room and into the control room, right where she knew she would find The Doctor.

"Doctor?" she said softly, trying to wipe any remaining tears away.

He looked up at her and frowned. She hardly ever wandered out of her room so late at night. But tonight was different. "Amy, you need to get some sleep. We've got a busy morning ahead of us-"

"I had a bad dream," she said, realizing that she sounded like a small child. "Not really a bad dream. It was just...it was sad..." She could feel the tears pooling up again, and she sniffled.

He looked almost hopeful for just a second, and then he was serious again. "What did you dream about?"

"I..." She hesitated. What was it about? What happened? It was so simple, and yet so hard to explain why it had upset her so much. The dream was starting to fade from her memory completely. "I don't know."

He looked away from her, his eyes scanning the controls for a few seconds, and then he began pacing. That was what he did when he knew something he didn't want to tell her.

"You don't remember?" he asked.

For just a moment, she thought she might have remembered something. A face. Yes, the voice had a face. But it was only a flash. She had seen it before, but she didn't know where. It didn't make any sense. Her whole body was shaking as she tried to contain her tears. They wouldn't stop.

"I feel like something's missing," she said. "But I don't..."

The Doctor crossed to her and grabbed her arms firmly, shaking her slightly to get her to look at him. "Yes, you do know. You know exactly. There's something missing. But if you can just dig deep enough..."

"I..." She looked into his eyes. He knew. And he said that she knew. But that was the problem. She didn't know. And the more she tried to remember something, anything, the more it hurt her. "I don't know, Doctor. I honestly don't-"

The Doctor released her and turned away again, frowning. She had done something wrong. But that wasn't her fault! She didn't know. She had no idea what was wrong. She just hoped that it would get better. Pain couldn't last forever, could it?

"Get some rest, Amy," he said, dismissing her, never looking back at her. "We'll be heading out in a few hours."

She did as she was told, not in the mood for arguing this time. She went back to her bed, her bed that seemed much too large for just her, and stared at the other side. The emptiness would not go away, she realized. But she could at least pretend that it wasn't there.


	4. Cookies

**Thank you guys so much for the wonderful reviews! I'll try to use you guys' suggested trigger words. I'm not particularly fond of this chapter, or the one after this, but I think it'll get better after that. Remember to leave a review and tell me what you think! **

4. Cookies

They hardly ever stayed in and cooked. They always went to small space diners or little cafes, and sometimes they were so busy that they completely forgot to eat. That's why The Doctor found it so strange that they were stopped in modern-day Australia, prepared to go sight-seeing, and there was a sweet smell drifting into the control room from the kitchen. Surely she wasn't cooking right before they were about to go out, and baked sweets, of all things. But it smelled so wonderful that he almost didn't even want to question her. Almost.

"Rose!" he called as he walked in the direction of the kitchen. "What are you making?"

She didn't answer immediately. He heard a loud clatter, like a pan being dropped, and he sped up until he reached the doorway, where he stood and watched as Rose picked up a pan from the floor and tossed it in the sink.

"You have a _lot _of chocolate chips in here," she answered, picking up a bag and dumping it into a bowl. "I thought I would make good use of them."

He looked around the kitchen, examining the mess she had made. Dirty dishes everywhere, egg shells all over the counter, melted butter and milk spilled on the floor, and piles and piles of cookies on the table.

"How many have you made?" he asked as he watched her stir the mixture.

She looked up at him and smiled. "Almost a hundred."

He raised an eyebrow and shoved his hands in his pockets as he took another step toward her. "And what do you expect to do with so many cookies?"

She shrugged and dropped a spoonful of cookie mix on a clean pan. "I don't know. Share them, I guess." She looked up at him, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Go ahead, have one. You know you want to."

The oven beeped. She turned to look at it, wiping her forehead, and then grabbed a towel and opened the oven to get yet another batch of cookies out. When she turned back around, he noticed that she had melted chocolate on her face. He grinned.

"Don't act like you're not excited about cookies," she said, looking over at him again. "Everyone gets excited over cookies."

He nodded and walked to the table, grabbing a cookie and trying to suppress his smile. "More than nine hundred years of time and space, and cookies are still one of my favorite things." He picked up one of the fresher ones and took a bite of it. "You made these on your own? Not out of the bag?"

Rose's face lit up, and she abandoned her work and walked over to him. "Why? Are they good?"

"Good?" The Doctor exclaimed, picking up another cookie. "They're brilliant! You never told me you could cook. We could have been eating in here."

Rose reached over him, her arm brushing his just a little, and picked up a cookie. "Well, I already clean up around here," she said lightly, taking a bite of her cookie. "Now you want me cooking too?" She leaned closer to him, so that her face was only a few inches away from his, and dropped her voice. "Wouldn't that make me a housewife, Doctor?"

He stared into her eyes for a brief moment. He had never realized how beautiful they were. He had never really realized how truly beautiful she was.

He reached up and swiped the chocolate off her face with his finger. "You're a messy, messy girl, Rose Tyler."

She backed away from him, looking shocked and amused at the same time, and then she laughed. "There was chocolate on my face this whole time, and you didn't say anything about it?"

He laughed as well, simply because she laughed. It was close to the top of his list of favorite sounds. "Sorry, I thought it was-" He stopped himself. He was going to say "cute." He thought it was cute. But he thought better of saying that out loud.

He cleared his throat. "Do you need help with anything?"

"Well, I was going to make one more batch of cookies and pack them up for later, and then I was going to try and make something for dinner," she said, returning to the counter where the cookie mix was still sitting. "Oh, we're in Australia! Why don't we just grab something out there?"

"Australia can wait," The Doctor said. "If you're cooking, that is."

Rose raised an eyebrow, smiling a little, and put some more dough on the pan. "Hey, I won't let you take advantage of my cooking. If you want something, you're going to have to help me." She nodded toward the other side of the room. "Put on your apron, Chef."

The Doctor looked to where she was gesturing and shook his head in disbelief. Why did he even own a pink apron? Where had it even come from? It didn't matter. He could feel Rose's eyes on him, so he put it on without protest and came over to help her.

"Tell me what to do, boss," he said.

Rose's eyes widened in mock disbelief as she looked up at him. "Wait, I'm the boss now? Did we finally find something I could do that The Doctor couldn't?"

"No," he said, far too quickly. "I mean, of course I know how to cook. What do you think I do with nine hundred years of life?"

"Take cooking classes, apparently," she said sarcastically. She never stopped smiling.

And he realized then that he never did either. Not while she was around. "Maybe I did take a few here and there," he said. "But for now, you're in charge. Tell me what to do."

She hesitated, but after a few seconds, she went to the cabinets and started pulling out supplies and rattling off instructions for him to follow. And he listened and did what she told him to, though there were a few mess-ups that Rose had to fix.

And as they sat at dinner that night, with their pasta and plate of cookies, talking about what they were going to do in Australia tomorrow, he decided that he loved Rose Tyler. Being around.

He loved Rose Tyler being around...


	5. Laugh

**Let me just say that I hate this one. I mean, I really hate it. It's probably the worst one I've written thus far, and I hope that I don't end up writing something this terrible again. Sorry for the length. I didn't mean to make it so long, but I just started rambling a bit. And sorry if the timing's off. I kind of tried to stick this one set between "A Good Man Goes to War" and "Let's Kill Hitler," but I don't know. Just tell me what you think. **

5. Laugh.

There are five stages of dealing with grief, and Amy and Rory, just like anyone else who had ever suffered a loss, went through them all.

The first stage is denial, and Amy was worse about that than Rory was. She spent a lot of time telling him and The Doctor that no one had actually taken her baby. It all had to be a dream, because if it was real, she didn't want to be a part of it. Of course, Rory felt the same way, but he had to try to remain strong, for her, so he covered it up and comforted her.

However, by the second stage, anger, he wasn't remaining so calm anymore. He stayed in their room most of the time, not daring to go out in case that he happened to explode. He and Amy yelled at each other a few times, and several times he heard her screaming at The Doctor for no reason. Her temper was out of control. He didn't want to get like that. So he kept his anger inside the room.

Bargaining came next. Amy spent her days in the control room with The Doctor, much calmer now, but there was a fury hidden inside of her, wanting to lash out and blame someone for what had happened to Melody. She made suggestions to him about how they might could get her back. Rory even found himself begging The Doctor to let him do something about it, to send him out to get his daughter back. He could tell that it killed The Doctor to have to say no to them.

Which led to the depression. Every single time The Doctor stopped Amy, she cried. Not in front of him. Not even in front of Rory. But she cried. She locked herself in the bedroom and cried for an hour or more at a time. Once, Rory woke up in the middle of the night to the sounds of her crying in the bathroom. And that's when the depression kicked in for him too. He had to get up and leave the room to be alone, and when he returned, she was still awake, though not crying, and he stayed up all night holding her and making sure that she was okay.

But then there was this strange stage in between depression and acceptance, a sort of delirious stage, when they weren't exactly sure how to feel. Rory wanted to believe that everything was okay, especially since he knew that that baby ended up being River Song. He did believe it. But it was hard to accept the fact that they would not be able to raise her themselves. No, he was most definitely not ready for the acceptance. Not yet.

Rory did not experience the strange stage. Or, not as much as Amy did. One night when they were in their bedroom on the TARDIS, the lamp turned on suddenly, and Amy was out of bed. And laughing. Rory groaned, not wanting to get up, but it was so strange that he had to roll over to see what she was doing. She didn't even seem to notice that he was awake. She was smiling. Actually smiling and laughing.

"What's funny?" he asked.

Amy turned around to face him, and if possible, smiled even more and leaped onto the bed next to him. "Do you remember the first time we kissed?" she asked.

Rory got up so that he was face-to-face with her and returned the smile. Her eyes were alight with happiness, something that he had not seen in so long. There were tears in her eyes, but they were happy tears. Hopeful tears.

"Yeah, I remember. That was a disaster," he said with a laugh.

Amy shook her head. "No, it wasn't a disaster. It was fun. We were dancing." She reached out and took his hand. She hadn't been affectionate toward him since Demon's Run. Not that he was complaining. It just concerned him a little. It was so sudden.

"Yeah," he replied. "We were doing the macarena."

He had to be careful. He wasn't entirely sure what was going on with her at the moment. Should he be worried? After all this time moping around, she awoke suddenly in the middle of the night in a fit of giggles. It was slightly disconcerting.

For a few seconds they were silent, just staring into each other's eyes. It was as if they were right back to the night they first kissed. Rory remembered it all too well. All those feelings of excitement and joy and love that he had always had for Amelia Pond, and they were still there now, even more intense than before.

Amy made his brain go all fuzzy sometimes and his heart skip a beat, and often he didn't even think around her. He had hardly touched her since Demon's Run, except in his failed attempts to comfort her, but now, he was leaning forward suddenly, and he placed a quick kiss on her lips.

And she laughed. Not just a simple chuckle, no. It was loud, like this was much more amusing than whatever it was that had roused her from her sleep to begin with. He pulled away from her, feeling only slightly confused and just a little insulted.

"So my kissing is funny now?" he asked.

This was not Amy Pond. Amy Pond had been replaced by some madwoman from an insane asylum. That had to be it, because that's how she was acting right now. She was not at all herself.

"I'm sorry," she said, trying to suppress her laughter, "I'm sorry, really. I don't know what's wrong with me. I just feel...good, you know?" He could feel her smiling as she pressed her lips against his for a brief moment, and then she pulled away and took his hand. "I want to dance."

Rory was barely even able to react before she was jerking him up from the bed so fast that he almost stumbled and fell flat on his face. He watched as she fumbled with the small radio on their nightstand, which still picked up stations on Earth somehow, and finally picked a fast techno song and turned the volume up as loud as it would go. Rory had to cover his ears, trying to block out at least some of the noise, but it was still incredibly loud.

"Amy!" he shouted over the music as she took his hand again and dragged him to a wider space in the room. She showed no sign of hearing him. "Amy, I think you need to turn the music down just a little-"

He stopped. She was doing the macarena. And it was like he was not even in the room. It was just her and the music. It was one of the most beautiful things that he had ever seen. He remembered their high school dance, when that song was playing and Rory was too shy to dance in front of people, but Amy dragged him out into the middle of the crowd anyway, and they made complete fools of themselves, but it didn't matter because it was like they were the only ones in the world.

She turned to him suddenly and smiled a little. "You have to do it too, Rory."

"Alright-" he started to agree, but the song on the radio changed to something soft and sweet, and Amy didn't seem much interested in the macarena anymore.

"You remember our first actual dance together?" she asked, taking a step closer to him and wrapping her arms around his neck.

He nodded and placed his hands on her waist, pulling her closer to him. "Yeah, same night. Journey. 'Faithfully.'"

She was silent for a moment, not looking at him, just swaying to the music. She was thinking about something. It worried him, the look on her face. She looked like she was stuck trying to decide if she wanted to cry or laugh.

But then her eyes found his, and she half-smiled. "Twirl me."

He did, and she released his hand and took a couple of steps back. He watched her, confused, and then she started toward him again, fast. He barely had time to react, but he managed to catch her and spin her around, and pretty soon, they were both laughing as they collapsed onto the bed, with Amy still in his arms. She rolled out of his grip onto the bed just a few inches from him, still laughing.

"We put _Dirty Dancing _to shame," Rory said.

Amy rolled over to face him, her eyes wide with excitement. "Do you think you can lift me like Patrick Swayze did?" She didn't give him time to answer. She laughed and rolled onto her back, and suddenly, everything seemed to get serious again.

"Do you think she's okay?" she asked.

Rory rolled over to face her. There were tears in her eyes again, but they did not spill over. He let out a breath, trying to think of something that he could say. They knew that she was okay, didn't they? But it was still hard to process.

"I think she's fine," he answered, reaching for her hand. "I'm sure she's wondering where her parents are, but one day, she'll find us, or we'll find her, and she won't have to wonder ever again." He paused to wait for a response, but Amy still looked unsure. "You know we find her. It's River. Her timeline is just...different."

For a long time, she stared up at the ceiling, a blank expression on her face, and finally, she nodded and squeezed his hand tighter. "You're right," she said. "It's hard. I miss her. But I think I can wait to see her again."

She turned her head toward him and smiled, wiping away the one tear that escaped down her cheek. This was the acceptance. Amy would probably still be sad, and so would he, but they would move on. They had to. For each other. For themselves. For her.

"Excuse me!"

Rory and Amy both shot up from the bed at the same time and saw that it was only the Doctor standing at the door, looking rather cross and yet somewhat amused, the way that only he could do.

"Why is the music so loud? What are you doing?" He was having to shout. The music was still at maximum volume.

Amy didn't answer. She looked in Rory's direction, suppressing a smile, and then looked back at the Doctor and shrugged. "I don't know. I just felt like dancing!"

The Doctor stepped into the room, staring at her like she was complete insane, and then looked at Rory. Of course, Rory had no explanation for it either, so he simply shrugged.

And then the Doctor smiled. "Well, Amelia, if you feel like dancing, can you please turn the music down? I'm trying to sleep, just for a couple of hours. Maybe you should get some rest. We have big plans tomorrow!"

Amy nodded and crawled over to the radio, turning the music off completely. "Yeah, I'll go to sleep. Sorry for interrupting your sleep, Doctor!"

"Yes. Well, it's fine. Perfectly fine. I'm just...I'm glad you're okay." He started toward the door rather awkwardly. "Go to sleep, Ponds! I'll see you in a few hours."

He left, shutting the door behind him. Rory got up from his spot at the end of the bed and started to climb under the covers. Amy followed after him, turning off the bedside lamp and putting the room once again in complete darkness. He felt her crawl into bed next to him, and he turned over, away from her. She was pretty aggressive in her sleep, and he really didn't like being kicked and slapped in the middle of the night.

He had just shut his eyes when he heard a short, light, airy giggle, and then the light was back on. He sighed and flipped over to face her again.

"Remember when we were in high school and you wrote me that song?" she asked.

Rory knew that they would not be getting any sleep that night.


	6. Puppy

**Guys, I am so so sorry I haven't posted anything in the past few days. I just graduated from high school, and it's been pretty hectic. I hope you can all forgive me. **

**Anyway, thank you for the reviews! They sure do mean a lot. I saw where one person commented on the last Doctor/Rose oneshot that they couldn't tell which Doctor it was. It was Ten. Sorry if that was a little confusing. Hopefully this one will be a little easier to tell which one it is. This one is more friendship than anything, guest starring Captain Jack Harkness! So I hope you enjoy. (: **

6. Puppy

He had been gone for five minutes, _five bloody minutes_, and now the TARDIS console room was a complete and total mess. He had stepped out to have a word with one of his old friends, just checking in on the planet and making sure that everything was as it should be. And now, there were papers, clothes, and little gadgets that he didn't even know he had thrown all over the floor. There was a trail of water, some food, and...was that feathers? It looked like a pillow had been ripped apart.

There was only one explanation to this, of course. It had to be his lovely companions, Rose Tyler and Captain Jack Harkness. Only they would be capable of this level of damage.

At first, he was a little irritated, but his curiosity won over him, and he decided that he would rather find out what was going on and what had driven them to think that this was okay.

"Rose?" he called, in a voice that made him sound like a strict father getting on to his teenage daughter. "Jack?"

Everything was silent for a second, and then he heard the hushed whispers of the two coming from somewhere down one of the hallways.

"Oh, no! Jack, what do we do? He's going to find it!"

"Put it in my room! He'd never go in there."

"You take it! I'll distract him."

And then, her blonde head popped out around the corner, a wide smile on her beautiful face as she emerged into the messy console room. She looked like a guilty child that had gotten into the cookie jar before dinner. She held her hands behind her back, and she rocked back and forth on her feet nervously.

He wanted to look mad. He wanted to get answers from her. But he couldn't help but laugh at her. She was just so cute-

He cleared his throat. "Do you know anything about this mess in here, Rose?"

She stared at him for a second, trying to formulate a response, and then looked around the room with feigned shock on her face. "What happened in here, Doctor? Jack and I were in my room playing a board game. I have no idea-"

"What do you have in here?"

She smiled innocently. She was terrible at lying, especially to him. What could she possibly have found in the past five minutes on this planet that she brought onto the TARDIS? What could have possibly made this mess in so little time?

"Okay, you can't get upset," she said with a childish grin. "Jack and I found a trader who specialized in Earth creatures, and he was just so cute. We couldn't resist. He was looking up at us with those sad, brown eyes. We couldn't just leave him-"

"Rose."

He didn't need her to tell him what it was. He already knew. And he didn't like it one bit. The thing would have to go. He could barely keep Rose and Jack under control. But to add a puppy to the mix? It would be completely impossible to take care of.

"Jack, you can bring him out," Rose called out.

Jack walked into the room somewhat hesitantly, with nothing in his hands. However, there was a large lump underneath his coat that kept wriggling about.

"Bring who out here?" he asked. "I don't know what-"

"Jack, he knows," Rose said.

Jack looked at the Doctor, who was still trying to look stern, and then at Rose for approval. She nodded, and he pulled out a fuzzy white puppy that looked like an oversized cotton ball. The Doctor did like animals, especially dogs, but he would not let them know that. He would not let the two of them win. Not yet.

"And what did you plan on doing with that?" he asked.

Jack and Rose shared another look, waiting for the other to speak. And then Rose shrugged and took the puppy from Jack's arms. "I don't know. Hide it in my room or something? You would have never looked in there. Or Jack's room."

The Doctor watched the dog carefully. Its tongue lolled from its mouth, its big, floppy paws were draped over Rose's arm, its wide brown eyes were begging for a place to stay. He almost wanted to give in. That puppy was enough to make anyone turn into a pile of mushy love and affection.

"Do you see the mess he made?" he said, looking away from the dog and gesturing to the papers and feathers and other things littered across the room. "Look at the console room! It looks like a tornado came through here."

"And we'll clean it up, I swear!" Rose exclaimed.

"So can we keep him?" Jack asked.

Rose held the puppy up to the Doctor's face, and he was forced to look into those chocolate brown eyes. He would have to say yes, eventually. He reached out and patted the dog on the head.

"So what is his name then?" the Doctor asked.

"We were thinking that we should name him Mickey," Rose replied, handing the puppy over to Jack. She sounded so nonchalant.

"Mickey?" the Doctor asked in disbelief. "Mickey the Idiot? Really? Why would you torture the poor thing like that?"

Rose giggled and shook her head at him. "I'm only kidding. His name is Max. And if we keep him, he can stay in my room, and Jack and I will take care of him. You won't even know he's here."

The Doctor stared at her for a few seconds. Her face lit up with hope as she awaited his answer. She rocked back and forth again, more and more nervous as the seconds ticked on. And finally, the Doctor took the dog out of Jack's hands and pet him again. How could he resist such an adorable little thing like this?

"Fine, we can keep him-"

Before he could say another word, Jack and Rose let out cries of joy, and before he knew it, Rose had him locked in a tight embrace. He froze a moment, unsure of how to react to the girl's touch. And then he hugged her back, lightly. It could only be a friendly hug. Nothing more.

"Thank you, Doctor! I promise you won't regret it," she said. "Max will just make it feel more like a family here than it already does."

The Doctor was only slightly curious who played what role in the family structure, if he was supposed to be the father, and what was Rose? But he didn't voice his questions. He just continued petting the dog, which yipped happily and then licked his face.

"Ugh, puppy kisses," he said, holding the dog out to Jack to take.

"Would you prefer human kisses?" Rose asked.

Once again, he was at a complete loss of what he should do. It was an innocent question, a joke, and he could see that all over her face. She didn't mean anything by it. But still, she was much too close, and he was far too fascinated by her, and his hearts were beating too fast, and he needed to stop thinking about kissing her. Yes, he would prefer human kisses. Especially hers.

But he could never say that.

So he returned her smile and put the dog down on the ground. "Why don't we start cleaning up then?"

Rose's smile faltered for just a moment, and she tucked her hair behind her ear and turned away from him. But the smile returned. If something was wrong, she wouldn't let anyone know about it.

Was she joking? She was joking, right? There was no way that she was implying that she wanted to kiss him. He was an old man. She was young and beautiful and smart and funny. There were young and beautiful men out there for her.

He nodded to himself. Of course she was joking. She was definitely joking.


	7. Cycle

**Sorry that I haven't posted anything in a while! Life's been hectic since I graduated, and I haven't had time to write anything. I finally got this finished. It started off kind of meh, and I was getting kind of bored with it, but I think I like how it turned out. Tell me what you think! Leave a review or favorite or something. (: **

7. Cycle

Mels had been the one to suggest it. She and Amy were failing their math class. Rory was top of the class. Mels thought it would be a great idea for Rory to tutor them, and she set it up so that they could all meet up tonight. Of course, Mels called Rory an hour before the girls were supposed to come over and informed him that she was going to her grandma's for dinner that night and would be unable to make it. This happened almost every single time that the three of them made plans together. Most of the time, if Mels cancelled, Amy would cancel too and just call Rory later that night or see him the next day. But Mels told him tonight that she had just gotten off the phone with Amy, and she still planned on coming over.

Rory only panicked a little. He was so used to it being the three of them all the time. Very rarely did he ever spend alone time with Amy, and when he did, he was always a nervous wreck. He had been in love with her since the moment he saw her when they were eight years old. At the time, he didn't really know what falling in love felt like, but he knew now that he most definitely fell in love with her at first sight.

This would be the first time that they had been alone, without Mels, at his house in a long time. He wasn't sure what to do. He was always afraid that he would say or do something stupid in front of Amy. He knew he had no chance with her, but still, he hoped. And that's why he worried that she was coming over tonight. Everything had to be perfect.

He made sure to get some of her favorite snacks, chocolate-dipped pretzels and popcorn, and some Dr. Peppers. He set up all of his studying materials in the family room. His parents weren't at home, so he thought it best that they didn't hang out in his bedroom. He didn't want to make her feel uncomfortable.

He took a quick shower and changed into something that didn't look at all like something he would wear, but he thought that Amy might like it. It was typically what guys she dated wore. He stared at himself in the mirror for at least fifteen minutes, trying to convince himself that he could pull off skinny jeans, and eventually he decided that it might could work. He brushed his teeth three times, and he was about to brush them a fourth time when he heard a knock on the door downstairs.

The panic struck him again, and his heart started to beat rapidly against his chest. There was no way he could screw this up. It was just a study session. They were going to do math and hang out. It would be okay.

He rushed downstairs and opened the door to find Amy standing on the porch, as he had expected, but she did not look at all like he had expected. She was smiling, but the smile didn't quite reach her eyes. It looked like she had been crying. He hated when she cried. Most of the time it was because of one of the guys she went out with. He had no doubt that it was the same this time.

When she looked at him, though, she frowned, and her eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "What are you wearing?" she asked as she walked inside.

He looked down at his clothes, feeling self-conscious now. He shouldn't have tried something different, especially since he was questioning it himself. "Um...I thought I would try a new style," he answered. "But I don't think I much care for it."

Amy shook her head, walking toward the family room. "I don't. I like the way you dress already. I don't think you should change anything." She plopped down on the couch and grabbed a Dr. Pepper. "Well, let's get started then. I'm failing the class, and if I don't pass our next test and bring my grade up, my aunt's going to kill me."

Rory sat down next to her. His hand accidentally brushed her bare thigh, and he scooted farther away, clearing his throat as he picked up his math book and calculator.

"Okay, so we've been learning about limits..."

He looked up at her and saw that she was not listening to him at all. In fact, it looked like her mind wasn't even here at all. Something was bothering her. He could see the tears pooling in her eyes, and she was biting her nails like she did when she was trying to keep herself calm.

He cleared his throat again. That was his nervous habit, what he did when he was trying to appear cool on the outside, but he was in panic mode on the inside. "Do you um...do you want me to get you something else to eat? Is this okay?" he asked.

Amy looked at him like she was shocked that he was there, and slowly, she shook her head. "No, it's fine. I'm just not hungry." She looked away again.

"Okay..." he said, unsure of whether or not he should continue. It was obvious that she really didn't care about this right now. He wondered what had happened to her. He wondered if he should ask. "So a limit is an intended height for a given value-"

"Rory," she said firmly as she scooted closer to him. She was looking directly into his eyes. The tears were threatening to spill over any minute. He could feel his heart racing faster, faster, faster. She was close, very close. "Do you think I'm pretty?"

Did he think she was pretty? Of course he thought she was pretty! But he had never told her that. Well, once he did, when they were kids and he wasn't so scared to do anything. She punched him after that and told him to shut up. So he'd never said it again.

"Um..." _Say it! Just agree with her! Tell her how you really feel! _His brain was screaming at him, but words weren't coming out. "I'm...er...of course." There. At least he was getting an actual response out. "Of course I do. Not just...not just pretty. I think...well, I think you're...beautiful. Very beautiful."

Amy looked like she was going to smile for a second, and then she rolled her eyes. "Oh, shut up," she said, and then her voice broke and the tears started to fall. "Then why did Steven cheat on me with Megan?"

So that's what she was upset about. Rory should have known. Since the first time he had met Steven, he had despised him. He was just like every other guy. Handsome, cool, popular, and a complete jerk. He had a new girlfriend every other week. So Rory knew that Amy would end up getting her heartbroken. And now, here she was, crying in his house.

"Because Steven's a jerk, and he doesn't deserve you anyway," Rory answered. "You're too good for him."

Amy didn't seem to be listening to him. She was wiping tears away, trying to regain control of herself, but the tears just continued to fall. Rory didn't like to see her like this. He didn't know what to do. There were no words he could offer to make her feel better.

He reached over cautiously and patted her shoulder. "It'll be okay," he said. "You're going to find someone better."

She sniffled, but otherwise there was no response.

Comforting words were not working. He didn't know how to fix her if she wouldn't listen to him. He scooted away from her and grabbed his calculator, pressing buttons absentmindedly as he tried to think of something to do.

And then something completely stupid occurred to him. But he could try. "Hey, do you want to see something cool?"

She wiped a tear away and looked at him with a little interest, but then she rolled her eyes at him again. "There's nothing cool about a calculator, Rory."

"No, there is. Look." He typed in an equation and then handed it to her, hoping that it would distract her for just a little while. He hated Steven so much right now. If they crossed paths again, Rory would hurt him.

Amy stared at the screen of the calculator for a second, and slowly, a smile lit up her face. "It's a heart. That _is _kind of cool."

She looked up at him, and his heart stopped beating. He suddenly felt very small and very insignificant under her gaze. She was close, much to close, and he could have sworn that she was moving closer. He could feel a trickle of sweat run down his face, and now he knew for a fact that she was moving closer, and his panic was returning and he didn't know what to do. She was vulnerable and upset, and he was there. That was it. But no, he couldn't kiss her. Not now. Not under these conditions. The day would come, surely. But not today.

He couldn't get that message to his brain. His brain was too busy trying to figure out what to do, because he had only kissed one other girl and that was at a party three years ago and she had been dared to kiss him. So it didn't count. And he was going to screw this up.

Amy's phone rang, and she looked away from him. He let out the breath that he hadn't realized he was holding. She pulled her phone out from her bag and frowned, and Rory instantly knew who it was. Steven. With an apology. That's what always happened, no matter who it was. The guy would mess up, break Amy's heart, and then come running back to her. And she would always be waiting with open arms.

"It's Steven," she said.

Rory rolled his eyes. "You should take it then."

And she did. She was in the kitchen for several minutes, and Rory took that time to pack up her things and clean up the untouched food. He knew how it was going to be. Any second now, she would come out and tell him that Steven was sorry and she was going to meet him, and she was sorry that she couldn't hang out with him longer but she'd call him later to let him know everything was okay.

But this time, instead of being disappointed and feeling sorry for himself, Rory was going to hand Amy her things and let her go. Because he was tired. Tired of being the best friend that was her shoulder to cry on. Tired of not being able to sleep because she'd be on his mind all night. Tired of this endless cycle.

"He said that he's sorry, and he said that Megan was the one that came on to him," Amy said as she came out of the kitchen. "I think I'm going to grab something to eat with him tonight, but tomorrow we can get our math on."

She smiled at him, but he did not return the smile. He simply handed her things to her and remained silent. She looked confused, almost concerned about his behavior, but then she just turned and walked toward the door.

Rory followed her and opened the door for her and thought about maybe telling her how stupid she was being, but then he decided against it. He stood at the door and watched her as she disappeared into the night.

"Good night," he called after her.

She turned to wave at him, but she said nothing. She was in too much of a hurry.

There went Amy Pond, into the night. Beautiful, perfect Amy Pond, continuing on her cycle. He just hoped that that cycle would eventually lead her to him. And that's where the cycle would end.


	8. Tears

**Well, I'm not really sure how to describe this chapter. This was a trigger word given to me by one of the reviewers. It's centered around Rose, but it's mostly about the Doctor, if that makes sense. It doesn't really matter which Doctor it is, whatever floats your boat. I was picturing Ten when I wrote it though. Hope you all enjoy! As the title implies, this one is sad. But the next two are going to be lighter and funnier. Please leave a review! **

8. Tears

Rose Tyler could not sleep. She had spent almost two hours tossing and turning and trying to think of something completely and utterly boring to make herself fall asleep, but she just couldn't. Something was tugging at the very back of her mind, forcing her eyes to stay open, for her brain to go into overdrive.

Counting sheep. Staring at the ceiling. Nothing was working. So she decided that she would go and find the Doctor. She had never tried to find him in the middle of the night. She figured that he needed a little bit of alone time every once in a while. But she thought perhaps this one time, it would be okay to seek him out and talk to him until sleep came over her.

She walked out of her room and looked down the deserted hallway. So many rooms in the TARDIS. Where would he be? Her first instinct was the control room. That's where he always was when she was awake.

But he was not there. She checked the lower deck, where he had put a bed in case he fell asleep while working. He was not there either.

Where else was there? He had shown her several rooms, but none of them seemed like somewhere he would spend his free time. Perhaps the swimming pool? No.

She wandered halls for what felt like hours, peeking in different doors. A few of them looked like bedrooms. Or, the ghosts of bedrooms. They were no longer occupied, but they were decorated just as they had been in the past, when someone had lived there. She only glanced at these rooms, did not enter. Something felt wrong about going in there, like it was a sacred, secret place, and she should not mess with that.

A fear washed over her once, after finding the fifth bedroom. She worried about the day that her room would be like that, filled with the ghost of a girl. The day that she would be forced to leave the Doctor. Because of an accident, because of separation, because of death...

She would never be able to sleep now, knowing that forever was not forever for her. One day, she would not be with the Doctor, and he would not be with her.

She had to find him soon, before she drove herself insane.

It felt like she was going around in circles. So much undiscovered territory in this big ship. She worried that she would not be able to find her bedroom again, and she would be stuck wandering around in the hallways for who knows how long.

And then, somewhere in the distance, she heard a sound. It was faint, like the sound of a voice that did not belong to the Doctor. Was he hiding someone in here?

She took slow, cautious steps, careful not to make any noise to alert the person that she was coming. She listened at each door, listening for that voice, the strange, deep male voice that she had heard. It was getting louder as she approached the end of the hallway. At the very end, on the left, she saw that a door was cracked open just a sliver. A tiny ray of bright light spilled out into the hallway. Was that where the Doctor was? And if he wasn't and there was some strange man in there, would she be in danger? Would the Doctor be able to find her?

She was tiptoeing now, being as quiet as she possibly could. She pressed herself against the wall and inched toward the door, listening to the words coming out of the man's mouth. Something about Gallifrey. He was describing the mountains and the buildings there, talking about the landscape and the scenery. And was that...yes, she heard another noise now. Something like a cry. There was someone else in there with the man talking. The other person was crying.

Rose dropped to her knees and crawled on the floor, stopping at the door, making sure that she could not be seen. She peered in through the tiny crack and saw that it was a library. The Doctor had never shown her the library. It was huge, filled with what had to be a large majority of all the books in the universe. It reached all the way up to a tall ceiling, at least twenty or thirty feet high, just filled with books. It was amazing. She wondered why he had never showed her the room before. It looked like it would be a nice place to relax and be alone.

Which was exactly why he was probably in there.

She got up, peered in through the little window, and started to push the door open, but she stopped herself. He was not alone. Someone else was in there. She couldn't just barge in.

She scanned over the room several times, trying to catch a glimpse of something, anything, that would give her a hint as to what was going on. And then she spotted it.

In the corner of the room, in the shadows, almost completely hidden, was the Doctor. He was clutching a bottle tightly in his hands, and a little wisp of smoke was pouring out of the bottle. Many other bottles littered the floor around him. And it seemed that the voice, the voice that was telling all of the history of Time Lords and Gallifrey, was coming out of the bottle. As the Doctor listened to the voice, tears rolled down his cheeks, and every once in a while, a loud sob escaped from him.

At that moment, she realized that she had never seen the Doctor cry, and she found that it frightened her.

He looked up suddenly, turning his attention to the door. Rose panicked, trying to duck as fast as she could, but she knew that she was not quick enough. He had seen her.

She scrambled up from the floor, afraid that he might come out and find her, afraid of what she might say to him now, what he might say to her. She didn't want him to think she was watching him, judging him, intruding on his private life. She didn't mean to, honestly.

She wouldn't have time to get down the hallway and into another one. She would just have to hide in one of the other rooms. Rushing, her heart pounding, she jiggled each doorknob, but all of them seemed to be locked. It was time to start thinking up excuses, to throw out an apology, because she truly did feel terrible.

By some miracle, she found a door that opened, and without looking to see what was inside, she rushed in, shutting the door behind her. She peeked out from the window and saw that he had emerged from the library, his face still tear-stained, his eyes like they always were, like he knew too much, had seen too much. He looked curious, not angry. She thought about going back into the hallway, but she was afraid. Not of him, no. He was not frightening at all. Just afraid.

"Rose?" he called out.

She didn't answer. He was walking down the hallway in her direction now. She ducked down, out of sight behind the door. Why couldn't she just go out there and apologize and try to comfort him? Why was she stuck in this spot, petrified with fear?

Because she had nothing that she could say to him. There were no comforting words. She had not seen her planet burn. She had not seen all of her people die. She was not the last of the human race. So she had no idea how it felt to miss her home planet, her family, her friends, her entire race. She had no idea the shame that he felt, the guilt, the pain. This was the first time that she had ever seen the Doctor cry, and it was the first time that she really, truly thought about his past.

She got up and looked out the window again after what felt like a safe amount of time, and she saw that the hallway was empty now. She opened the door and looked in the direction of the library, making sure once more that she was safe before heading back the way that she had come.

She had seen the Doctor cry. And it had frightened her. Because the one man that she thought was the bravest, strongest man in the universe was just wearing a tough outer shell. Now, she understood. That strong, brave man was completely broken.


End file.
